In Dreams, I Await Your Hand
by orientalbunny
Summary: How far will the Goblin King go to bring her back into his world and at what price? JS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter One:

It was happening again. The dream of Sarah.

Her back was turned to him so that all he noticed as he stepped away from the shadows and into the dusty light was her long black hair. She turns to him slowly, her eyes bright, focused, illustrating her resolve to take back her brother at any price.

"Give me the child." There is no hesitation, not a hint of fear in her soft voice. He is surprised by her quiet authority and wishes greatly that he had more command over her.

A part of him is shaking his head. _No more. I do not wish to see this._

But the dream moves forward as he does, his white cape slightly billowing with every cautious footstep toward her. His Sarah. The one person he loves… and hates with all his heart.

"Sarah beware," he hears himself say, repeating history much to his distaste. "I have been generous up until now…but I can be cruel."

"Generous?" Her voice mocks him, even now years later, the tone in which she utters that word never fails to disgust him. How could she not realize the pressure and grave expectations she thrust on him. He had indulged her and she was ignorant of his painstaking efforts.

_How,_ his mind wonders, _could you take me for granted?_

The dream was starting to blur, fast forwarding to the heart of her betrayal. _Stop. I wish to get out of this nightmare!_

He sees himself, his hand outstretched, holding a crystal. It is a symbol of everything she had wanted up until she met him, her every dream, her secret longing to remain young forever. A never-never land wrapped in a bubble. But she did not realize it was also a promise. That he would never forsake her or her happiness.

"I ask for so little. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say and I will be your slave."

Had he really said that? The mighty Goblin King, willing to bow to the wishes of a mere mortal girl? How could he accept this admission of weakness? Why did he give so much of himself, and why does he still give so much, even now?

She hesitates over the words, looking down, searching for the right answer. She then looks up at him, startled. He steps forward, pressing his promise closer, looking at her expectantly.

_Please, _both the dream Jareth and the mind of the sleeping Jareth beggs, _see only me. Choose me!_

There is a pause, a moment when she looks up into his eyes surprised, and he knows. It is over before the words leave her lips.

_Such a delicate mouth. _

If he knew he would be barred forever from her by her careless words, he would have seized her at the time, pressed his mouth against her, and steal at least her first kiss. Knowing that she would belong to him in at least that matter would have alleviated some of his future suffering.

Her mouth is opening. It will be soon over.

_Do no cast me aside_, his soul whispers.

"You have no power over me."

With a hoarse cry, the scenery begins to blur. The hushed sound of everything falling apart washes over him, in a whirl of silk and feathers. The silk is cascading everywhere, so much so that he is blinded. He tries to claw through but there is too much. He is suffocating.

The harsh impact of his body meeting the stone floor jars him awake. He looks down groggily to see his midsection and feet hopelessly tangled with the bed covers. He sighs and lays his head on his left arm, not even bothering to disentangle himself.

He can hear his heartbeat returning to normal as he lies before his bed. Eyes half hooded from depression slowly turns, shifting his gaze from the other side of the room to his right hand, where he conjures a crystal. A distorted reflection of himself ponders back at him.

_You are a fool to still care for her. _

"Show her to me," he finally sighs.

He is momentarily stunned by the image of a grown woman.

Was this Sarah?

Her face is longer, the eyes wiser, but still hiding a hint of mischief. The lipstick looks natural on her now, not a garish bright red but a subtle hue that emphasizes her full lips. Even her blouse indicates a more mature sense of style, hinting a curvier, more sensual side to her nature. He smiles, amused that some things do not change; after all that time she still insists on wearing jeans.

The smile fades as he notices her with another man, and is silent when he sees the gold ring upon her finger.

A myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes. He frowns and looks away. With a grave look on his face he stands, allowing the bed covers to fall and pool at his feet.

A black leather vest with a high collar bordering his throat, black pants and a red underlined cape the color of midnight appear instantly on him. His reflection in the vanity mirror catches his eye. For a moment he forgets his dream.

He smiles a sad smile.

It was the same clothes he wore the first time he met Sarah, coming in through the balcony doors amidst glitter and moonlight.

A knowing smirk graces the mirror as another crystal appears on top his hand. He rolls it over his knuckles on to the other hand.

Soon the crystal is roving back and forth between his weaving hands. A harsh laugh escapes. But his voice sounds strange in the thick silence. Ignoring the sensation, he pictures a 15 year old girl with long black hair, staring at him with fear and wonder in her large gray green eyes.

"It's a crystal," he says. "Nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams. But this is no gift for an ordinary…" his voice stumbles over the word, "girl."

The crystal fumbles from his fingers as he leans back into his chair heavily. It drops without shattering, just a loud thud that slightly echoes in the oppressive room.

_No._ he thinks to himself, _not an ordinary girl. She was never ordinary._

He sits down and leans back into his favorite chair. A crystal appears in front of him at eye level. For a second even he wonders what he is going to do.

He mouths her name but dares not speak out loud.

Her face comes to view, smiling, happy. She is leaning her head on the shoulder of the man whom the Goblin King knows to be her husband. Her husband laughs and she joins in, sharing a joke the king will never hear.

He flicks his right hand, the barest of motions, and the light in the orb disappears. It hangs there in the air just an ordinary crystal, reflecting the interior of the room and the king's grave expression. Slowly his hand lifts and grasps the delicate globe, with his fingertips he brings it closer to his lips.

He kisses it.

Then leaves it on his dresser… for the next several years.

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a/n : Don't worry! It doesn't end here! More to come soon, I just have to go to work. Thank you for reading! This has been updated to include a disclaimer and my little silly notes.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Two:

For some years the Goblin King came and went from his private quarters without so much as a glance toward that one particular crystal orb on his dresser. After all, he told himself, there were many things for a King to do.

Breaking up fights between Goblins in his throne room for instance, was a daily nuisance. They were messy, and many of the very drunk goblins had to be kicked several times before their bodies gathered enough momentum to roll down the stairs and back to their sleeping quarters.

To ignore the city within the Labyrinth's maintenance problems would simply not do. Wells and fountains had to be checked, the walls, if crumbling, had to be braced and fixed or knocked down. Having a crew of goblins was not always efficient; they always preferred knocking walls down to repairing them. Then he would have to oversee the excess rubble carried to the stone quarry… by more incompetent goblins.

Yes, he was a very busy king.

But then…

There were also so many nights where he found himself unable to sleep. He would sit up in bed, candles lighting immediately, and open a thick book only to discover it was absolutely boring. On those nights the orb on his dresser would mean so much more.

The light from the candles would lend it an almost iridescent shine. He could see himself in that damn vanity mirror hesitating. He was reminded of one of those walls he just told himself he was too busy fixing.

_Crumbling._

_What are you looking at?_ The question was thrown at the mirror where it harmlessly bounced off and into the shadows dancing on the wall.

The mirror was deceitful. In it his image lounged on his side, propped up on his left arm, his right hand resting on the books open page. His upper body was naked, his hands without gloves, all he wore were loose fitting pants made from dark gray cloth. But he saw the spark of interest in the mirror's eyes glancing at the orb. That insolent mirror had the gall to expose his momentary weakness.

_Never. She has moved on._

And to make his point clear he slammed shut the book and hurled it onto the floor.

Defiantly he thrust his chin up at the image of himself but his reflection only seemed to be smugly chastising him. _Pick it up. _

"No," he gasped, exasperated, "She has moved on. I have moved on." But he said this in front of the mirror that was on top of his dresser, his hand inches away from the tempting crystal. He did not even recall leaving his bed.

_Forbidden Fruit, _his mind reminded him. _One bite caused the fall of mankind._

He picked it up nonetheless. It was warm to the touch as if it had a life of its own and it was without a speck of dust. He sighed.

_If she is my demise…so be it._

"Show me Sarah."

True honest dazzling sunlight poured into his shadowed room. The light had for a second, hurt his eyes.

_A park? What time is it over there?_ But before he could ask anymore moot questions, she came into view. Her smile was like the sun, dazzling.

He felt dizzy.

She waved her hand, gesturing to the man carrying the picnic basket that she knew the way, the absolute best spot to eat at. She was wearing a straw hat and it had a dark blue ribbon around it, one of the ends had fallen out of its bow and was fluttering in the wind. It was a silly hat, she was too old for it…it was lovely. It matched the dark blue, flower patterned dress she wore. It was a large dress, covering her extended stomach.

"Sarah," he whispered, amazed, "you have life growing in you." He wasn't sure what he thought, but his body felt light, and his view grew hazy as he traced his finger down the side of the crystal affectionately.

A little girl about four years old suddenly came into view hugging Sarah from behind. The Goblin King blinked in surprise. "My god Sarah! How many do you have?" But his exclamation was followed by a laugh.

She was so beautiful. They were all so beautiful. The grass was amazingly green, and when she sat down on the blanket they had lain out, and she hugged her little girl, laughing again…oh how they laughed…an ache built inside him.

It was a good ache he decided.

_No. I can never throw you out of my life. _

Tenderly he carried the orb back to his bed. He cradled it in his hands like a new born fledgling as he sat down in the middle of the covers, completely in awe of his Sarah, who was now a mother.

And when they had all eaten, and Sarah had finished reading a new chapter in her book as she waited for her husband and daughter to finish their game of well, whatever they called the bright colored flying dish…he watched them leave all bunched up in their little car.

The light dimmed and went out. The room appeared all the darker now, as his eyes were accustomed to the brightness that was Sarah and her world. Back in his room once again, holding an ordinary crystal.

He was alone, but warmth resided inside of him, and it resonated long after he fell asleep.

It would be a comfort to him he knew, in the years to come. A covetous glance in its rich depth every so many years, at night when he thought the loneliness would eat him inside out.

When he was tortured by dreams of her refusing him, he would wake and remember her smile as she held her little girl. It was difficult to accept but her life made sense without him. He found himself slowly letting go of dark memories of despair and embracing something new. Though he was not sure what that something else was.

Was it a sin he wondered, to invade her privacy when it brought him so much peace?

Watching her family, as they enjoyed things he would never have known about; such as the mysteries of over night sleepovers, or movie theatres, tooth fairy's and homework. Birthdays especially intrigued him, what with the brightly wrapped presents, games, cake and wishes…

He wondered what Sarah wished for over her birthday candles.

He did not realize how much he invested his heart into Sarah's family. How they chased away his inner demons with their innocence. Even when they fought, it was nothing short of a miracle to him, for they always made up in the end, becoming even closer.

It was amazing watching them all grow up.

Amazing. Painful.

Soon it will hurt him more than he thought possible watching them grow older…it will break his heart.

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a/n: Ugh… I only had five hours of sleep again. But I figure I am going to try to finish or at least add another chapter before going to work today. Stupid work. Stupid me, for staying up late – oh but it was fun :) My husband and I watched Labyrinth last night until 3 am. Totally worth it.

More coming soon, I hope people like this. I am always filled with happiness and anxiety (but mostly happiness) when I get good reviews because I wonder if my next chapter just isn't as good and will disappoint readers. But don't hold back, if there is something you hate here, I want to know about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Three:

Up the honey gray castle steps he went, his white tipped tail swishing with his confidant swagger. Sir Didymus was never happier. It was an honored task to plan and set up an old fashioned jousting tournament, a project started some weeks ago for the sake of alleviating the king's melancholy mood.

It had been very rough in the beginning. Although some of the guard Goblins had the rudimentary basics down pat (riding while holding a spear) their skill was far from ideal in Sir Didymus's opinion.

"I have a trained eye," he told them, "and while your efforts are commendable, I will help you reach the potential worthy of a knight!"

At the first practice, the goblins scoffed at the short fox with one eye riding a shivering sheepdog.

Now the Goblins groaned every time they saw Sir Didymus. He was a tough teacher, running them through the gauntlet over and over again, having them practice aiming their lances at an over stuffed bag of hay. He was also their personal sword trainer. Goblins all over the city could hear Sir Didymus's excited barks as swords clashed and rang from sunup to sunset.

The goblin guards would never scoff at Sir Didymus again, they were too tired to do so.

"But now they are ready," Sir Didymus said to himself proudly, his pace quickening as he sought his majesty to tell him the good news.

He took a shortcut through the kitchen and dodged under a wooden table to escape being smacked by a flapping chicken. The cook, a dwarf sized goblin with a stained apron, tried in vain to catch the angry poultry while other smaller goblins were having a flour fight in a poor attempt to make bread. Sir Didymus dashed for the back door.

"Git out a heer you mangy mutt or I'll boil you and makes soup!" said the head cook, who then screamed, "Crap! The chickens arrr on the loose again!"

Once he was at a safe distance, Sir Didymus dusted the white feathers off of his hat and coat and saw that he was in a portrait lined hall. _Ah, I believe I am going in the right direction_.

As he walked down the hall the cook's earlier threat of turning him to soup reminded him of a discussion he had with Sir Hoggle some time back. It was over warm wine and two bowls of potato leek soup and the topic was the Goblin King. His pace slowed a little as he remembered that day.

It was a few months back. Both were in Hoggle's study at the time, a modest little room with a small pot belly stove near the back wall and an open pipe over it to vent smoke and steam. Books, maps, and random odd things cluttered that particular room, but there was still space for a small circular table and one chair. The chair was always politely offered by Hoggle, and Sir Didymus would always politely refuse, leaping on top of a stack of books and eating and drinking there.

"I never would have thought it," mumbled Hoggle, as he drank his wine.

Sir Didymus looked up inquisitively, "thought what?"

"Have you noticed Jareth lately?"

"Yes, his majesty has been out of sorts of late."

Hoggle quirked an eyebrow, "He's always been out of sorts since… well, since Sarah left." He suddenly took a huge gulp of his wine. He sighed as he felt the pleasant warmth suffuse, before continuing. "But," he stopped momentarily thoughtful, "he's been even more moody these days."

"You don't suppose…"

Hoggle fixed a glare at Sir Didymus's look of anxiety. "Suppose what?" he asked gruffly.

"The lady Sarah is in danger?"

Hoggle blinks, wondering if such a thing was possible. _If it were…_

"He wouldn't allow it," he finally admitted, draining his cup, and then picking up his spoon to eat his soup. Sir Didymus knew "He" meant his majesty, the Goblin King.

Sir Didymus was quiet for a moment, turning his cup between his paws, before broaching the subject again. "You did not answer my question Sir Hoggle."

"Hm?" he said around a mouthful of potato, "What question?"

"What you never would have thought possible."

Hoggle poured himself another cup of wine. "It's just… I never thought he could fall in love."

There was a long stretch of silence. Sir Didymus did not feel like eating.

"Do you think Milady will ever return to us?" he asked.

Hoggle sighed, tilted his head in a careless gesture and shrugged, as if to say it was none of his business. But Sir Didymus knew otherwise. _Ah, Lady Sarah. How we all miss you so._

"I don't think so," was Hoggle's late reply. Sir Didymus passed his small cup to Hoggle and the kind dwarf refilled it. Hoggle continued, "After all," he said as a matter of fact, "she chose her world over us."

_And, _thought the subdued knight, _she chose that world over the king._

Sir Didymus stopped daydreaming as he rounded a corner, avoiding the Escher room. _Don't want to get lost in there._

The memory of Hoggle's words bothered Sir Didymus. He was not surprised; it was quite obvious to him that the king had strong feelings for the Lady Sarah. But the King's expected tight control over his kingdom was becoming erratic and sloppy. He did not want to think about what would happen should his majesty no longer care to rule the labyrinth or the inhabitants of the Goblin City.

He walked toward the King's library, his small boots clicking loudly in the great yawn of a dark hallway. In this section of the castle there were less and less windows, and for some reason the lanterns indented into the stone walls were not lit.

The castle seemed darker these days.

Sir Didymus came upon a large wooden door. It was the entrance to the King's library. Fearlessly, the short knight knocked.

No answer.

He was about to knock again, with the metallic end of his riding crop, when the door soundlessly pulled inward away from the door frame, just enough to let a little fox in.

Sir Didymus strolled in and stopped in the middle of the great room. Something was amiss.

Contrasting the hallway he had emerged from, this room was very well lit, but it was cold. Sir Didymus shivered and sniffed the air. It was too crisp and clean, meaning the fireplace had not been used in days. No scent of burnt wax from used candles.

How long had his majesty stayed here?

Sir Didymus turned at a faint rippling sound. A lonely silhouette lay on the huge stone window as if it were a child napping on a couch. A dome shaped arc of blue sky blanketed the dark figure. His black cape rustled with the cold breeze, lethargic and careless; it was the sound that had caught Sir Didymus's attention.

Without fear of reproach, Sir Didymus strolled toward the window and hopped onto its corner, being sure not to touch Jareth's boots.

"Leave me."

The knight was startled by his king's voice. It was not the usual youthful sound full of mirthful arrogance or unrestrained anger. Jareth lay on his right arm, his eyes not looking out at the city as Sir Didymus had first supposed, but at what was cradled in his left hand.

His neck strained to see what held the king's attention.

The king slowly sat up so that he was now sitting cross legged, facing out the window. He did not say anything as Sir Didymus sat beside him and peered into the crystal.

Sir Didymus saw an overcast grassy knoll, bordered by slim trees swaying in the breeze. There were people dressed in black gathered over a casket. Sir Didymus did not understand.

"One of them has died."

"Sir?" asked the little fox, not sure who "them" were.

"Sarah's husband."

The fox's eyes grew round with surprise at the sight of an old grief stricken Sarah. Her hair was gray, silver strands here and there, coiling in a neat bun. Tears were streaming down her face as she hugged a younger version of herself.

"Mi'lady?" He stuttered, amazed. He could not quite grasp the right words to say. "How…Why?" Sir Didymus wasn't sure what he was asking at this point, so shocked was he. And the young woman holding Sarah, crying on her shoulder, was she the daughter of the great lady?

"He had a heart attack. There was nothing anyone could do."

It was only a whisper but Sir Didymus could hear pain etched in every word. He caught a glimpse of the king then. He seemed somehow older, as if he carried with him a very heavy weight upon his shoulders.

Jareth stared beyond his gloved hands with half hooded eyes. The air around him seemed heavy and an eerie silence filled the room with unwanted questions. It was a combination that made Sir Didymus's senses prick and his hair stand on end.

Sir Didymus saw the look in his king's eyes and the burning inevitable knowledge that came with the fact that Sarah was not of their world.

_Death._

An unbidden image burst into Sir Didymus's mind: the king screaming, lanterns bursting with fire, the castle shaking…the king going mad, wailing. As quick as it came, it was gone. He shook his head. _What was that? A premonition brought on by my sharp canine senses?_

Sir Didymus looked at the king with new eyes, realizing for the first time that the one he served unquestioningly was someone he did not know. For once, the knight looked doubtful. What was the king capable of?

"Sire," he said gently, waiting for the king's attention. Jareth acted like he did not hear a word, but continued to stare into his orb, watching the family he continued to love, throw white roses onto the lowering casket.

Sir Didymus looked at the sad image of Sarah, noting her wrinkles, her frailty…

"Sire…she still has many years ahead of her." How long did humans live? 80 years? 100? The Sarah he saw could not possibly be older than 60.

The Goblin King closed his eyes and sighed. "You came here for a reason, did you not?"

_Ah! Irritation, a spark of the old king, perhaps things are not as hopeless_ _as we all thought,_ mused Sir Didymus, suddenly encouraged.

"Your guards are ready for the jousting tournament. Their skill is far superior then when I first met them." Sir Didymus kept his composure cool and indifferent but there was a small sweep of his tail that hinted the great pride he felt in his accomplishment.

Jareth forced a crooked smile but his eyes were cold, untouched by Sir Didymus's spirit.

"We will have it then. In three days," his voice a whisper of its former self. He gestured for the knight to leave, already turning his attention back to Sarah and her family.

When he turned back before closing the door, Sir Didymus saw that the king was lying down on the window sill again, and the sky was darker, redder. The king's shadow stretched across the room, almost touching the knight's boot clad feet. He started from the darkness, and a feeling of dread filled his proud honor bound heart.

Quietly, Sir Didymus closed the door to the great Goblin King.

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Man, this is a really rough chapter. It's actually kind of long for me, but I felt I needed to exercise describing places. And this chapter is kind of crucial for plot…Sorry everyone, I will endeavor to make it better next time. Much love for your time to read and review, I do appreciate it. If it was too long please tell me, and I will try to make it tighter next time. Thanks again. orientalbunny


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Four:

The Jousting tournament was set up rather simply. A high bench was erected with a tan cloth canopy, its back to the front of the inner castle; it was the seat of nobility for the Goblin King. Benches on either side were for special guests of honor, such as official dignitaries and their close friends. Sir Didymus had a seat at this section since he was the coordinator of the event.

On the opposite side were many four large consecutive rows of seating, each one higher than the next. The benches were crude, driven together not by bolt or machine but by the practiced hands of Goblins with hammers and nails. It was painted a dark green to best stand against drinks and food stains, and some of the rows were slightly crooked. These seats were for the general public, meaning anyone wanting to see goblin guards bash each other with wooden lances were welcome. The back end of the benches faced the inside of the outer city gate so that crowds could easily enter and leave.

Between the king's reservation and the Goblin's stadium seating was a long wooden fence. This would be the area of opposition where two guards would charge at each other from opposite ends and make contact in the middle.

The air buzzed with expectations and excitement.

Goblins and Inhabitants of the Labyrinth flocked into the inner Goblin City, scrambling and even haggling over rickety wooden benches. It was a dry day and warm breezes swirled brown shiny dirt around the feet of everyone. Taller Goblins shouted out there wares of greasy drumsticks and dribbling wooden cups of warm ale while near the end of the benches smaller goblins ran about taking bets for opposing teams.

Bright flags with an emblem of a white owl flapped overhead, while even more creatures joined in from the city gates. Sounds collected into a deafening roar as goblin children laughed and hooted, neighbors gossiped, and older goblins harassed anything looking female.

Suddenly, little bodies of armor and spiked helmets rose from the castle towers. They raised ridiculously long curvy trumpets to their mouth guards and let out a series of long deep horn blasts. There was a hush among the crowd.

Fireys began popping out of nowhere and started cart wheeling parallel to the benches. They jumped and landed at strategic spots, standing before tall iron lanterns filled with bowls of oil. The crowd looked toward the king's canopy.

The Goblin King appeared above his seat, majestically descending like a beautiful but menacing angel. For one second he was in midair, suspended with his arms extended, his long legs pointing to the ground, the next he was in front of his seat shaded under tan cloth. His black cape billowed slightly from his movement and rippled as he arrogantly tossed his head at the crowd, causing long blond strands of hair to sway. He swept one arm in a long arc as a signal.

The fireys saw their cue and each one raised long fingered hairy hands to their mouths, took a deep breath, and blew. A fierce blaze of fire shot out and ignited the lanterns all round the arena. The crowd went wild! They shouted, hooted, and stamped their feet, and caused many goblins to drop food and drink.

Sir Didymus now stood at his seat, holding a bright red flag ready.

A rhythmic sound of beats was heard emerging from the bowels of the castle; the sounds have become louder with each second. Soon two dozen goblin guards on bug eyed dragons appeared and separated into lines at opposite ends of the wooden fence, each holding a wooden lance strapped to one of their arms, and attached to their waists was a broad sword. The crowd was even louder than before. Little goblin children waved small hand flags, which were either black or white, representing the opposing teams.

Sir Didymus waited until the first two contestants were ready, raised the red flag (which was almost bigger than himself) and with a triumphant cry shouted, "Let the games begin!"

There was a thunder of dragon feet that hit the ground, clouds of dust were raised, and then the anticipated contact of wood that had splintered against metal breast plates.

The crowd stared wide eyed at the scene, trying to discern from the clouds of dust which was the victor, and inevitably, who won the first bet. Even the Goblin King looked amused. He leaned a little forward from his chair and actually smiled. The contestants were dizzy, and at first glance it looked to be a stalemate. Suddenly the goblin with the white band around his arm fell from the side of his saddle with a loud thud. The crowd was even louder than ever! The black goblin won! There were shouts of joy and wails of anger as losing betters ripped their tickets.

Sir Didymus laughed! It was exactly what everyone needed – a good display of bravery, guts, and good old fashioned sword play! He took hold of his cap and waved it over his head, nearly dropping his red flag, as he commended the black goblin's victory.

So into the sport was Sir Didymus that he never thought to look at his majesty once. If he did he would have noticed the king suddenly fidgeting, as if confused or bothered.

The Goblin King felt it. Something was not right. Amidst the loud roars of the crowd he felt a strange connection to something…or was it someone? A feeling similar to the fuzzy distortion of just waking up seized his mind, to the point that he nearly swayed over the side of his chair. A confusing jumble of sounds in his head mixed with the cheering crowd around him.

A strange screeching sound… Metal crashing…A scream…painful whimpering…

_SARAH!_

His eyes opened wide in horror, his hand fumbled to conjure a crystal, as he wildly hoped against his suspicions, at what his every instinct told him.

His hand trembled as the orb blazed, and then revealed a car with a brutal side impact. Black rubber marks reached out from under the tires in straight lines as if to angrily show where the car was. The car adjacent to it had a crumpled front hood; its driver, a young man in his twenties, shakily stepped out, then as if in a panic, ran to the other car to open the driver door.

_Nonononononononono_

The door swung open. The Goblin King gasped.

She was unconscious. The impact so severe that her glasses were nearly knocked off, it hanged precariously over the top of her mouth, the piece that curved over the ear, caught in her graying hair. A line of red trailed down her mouth as if she had drastically misapplied her lipstick.

The young man cursed and grabbed his cell phone from his pants pocket, dialing 911.

The goblin crowd cheered again as another point was won for the black team. Suddenly the Goblin King could not stand the distracting noise around him; he stood and screamed his outrage!

"SILENCE!"

Everyone was stunned. One of the goblin guards who had started the run down the gauntlet was so shocked that he jerked his reins with the result that both guard and dragon steed fell over.

The Goblin King did not care. His entire focus was on the frail woman in the damaged car.

Without fear of reproach, both Hoggle and Sir Didymus ran to the King's side. They pushed their way forward and peered in the depths of the orb in time to see paramedics gently lift Sarah from the wreckage.

"No," breathed Hoggle.

It was as if everyone were frozen. Even the dumbest goblin understood that when the King wanted quiet, that it would be on pain of death to disobey. It was strange and somewhat eerie how everyone hushed, eyes of all shapes and sizes riveted on the face of their stricken monarch.

Obediently they all stood, not understanding, but feeling the magnitude of that moment. Everyone there felt it in their bones, what happened today would decide the fate of their lives.

Sir Didymus, Hoggle, and the King stared for hours, watching Sarah. They saw her taken into the ambulance, driven to a hospital, saw the bandages and plastic devices that covered her, forcing her to stay alive a little longer. They saw her wheeled into a white room, hooked up to a metal box with a jumping red line, tubes of liquid forced into her thin arms. Her family quickly entered the little room, clinging to each other, grasping her hand…

The Goblin King could feel whatever it was that connected him to her, his Sarah, become fainter and fainter, until it was nothing more substantial than a dim heartbeat.

Flits of images fell behind his eyes like a waterfall of photographs. Sarah with her ridiculous straw hat and the stray blue ribbon, her daughter's first loose tooth, her son being born, holding hands with her husband in a small park, flushing away a pet goldfish, it went on and on, a momentary blur of a lifetime.

_Are these your thoughts Sarah?_

The king's breath left him harsh and erratic, as he battled emotions he felt to unprepared to fight.

The lines on the screen next to her, he knew to correspond with her heart beat, jumped up less consistently, its intervals became longer and longer.

One last image came into his mind causing his whole body to tremble and pain to flair within his eyes.

It was a picture of him, garbed in white, holding a crystal out to her before a starry sky. It was her strongest impression of him. _No!_ The Goblin King tried to capture that image with his mind, tried to hold it, the only part of himself that she kept. It sputtered like a dying candle and faded away from his reach.

The lines on the box had become an ominous straight line. Her family wailed.

_No._

The king's chest rose and fell with fierce angry inhalations. Energy crackled and leaped from his skin. Sir Didymus and Hoggle stepped back from the sheer power of the Goblin King.

_NO!_

The Goblin King roared like something beyond beast and man. The ground shook and split underneath all the platforms. The crowd panicked, feeling the air sizzle and crack all around. A few dragon beasts threw off their riders and fled the castle, knocking bystanders as they too ran for the exits.

The Goblin King pulled his arm back and flung the crystal at the ground, it shattered in an explosion that reflected his rage, his despair. The flames in the lanterns burst five feet in the air, splitting the bowls with loud cracks!

With an anguished cry the king jumped and in midair changed before everyone into his owl form, and winged madly into the sky, toward the highest tower.

"Stop him!" cried Sir Didymus.

Hoggle was holding his head after being knocked off the platform, trying to recover from what happened.

"W-what? Are you kidding me? Did you just see what happened?"

They could barely hear each other as everyone was still screaming and trying to rush out of the kingdom.

"Stop him!" Sir Didymus said as loud as he could that Hoggle may hear over the din. He leaped onto the one dragon steed that did not run away and pulled the reins to show the beast that its rider knew what he was doing. The beast reared, and set off in the direction the fox urged, toward the tower.

"We must go after him," he repeated over his shoulder to an increasingly smaller Hoggle, "the King is going to destroy the labyrinth!"

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a/n: Hi, this is my first action scene, and it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I hope I didn't bore everyone with the jousting scene, but I thought it would be an interesting personal challenge to show that in a world without television, there are some forms of large scale entertainment. The scene with Jareth losing it may seem out of character, I'm not exactly sure, but I can't picture him just calmly accepting Sarah's…you know, demise. He just seems like someone who would interfere, don't you think? Again, if you don't like, tell me, I will consider rewriting. Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Five:

Once he made it over the tower he could feel himself change. White feathers stretched and became long blond hair. His limbs elongated and his shadow grew from a bird to the form of a tall angry man. His black cape appeared from nowhere and snapped in the strong wind past his muscular shoulders. He walked to the edge of the tower in a purposeful trance.

"I will turn the world upside down for you," he said as if one in a dream.

The goblins that had earlier blown the curvy trumpets trembled before him and then ran out the door to the winding staircase below.

The goblin king looked over the edge and saw from there the labyrinth and its borders. He concentrated and saw, with a special ability only he alone possessed, the network of power beneath the soil of the labyrinth. Magic flowed underground, and he could see its pulse, a faint pink purple color.

"I have served you faithfully," he said to the whole underground. His voice was cold and his eyes blazed as the wind swept his hair from his face. "Now," he said as he extended an arm out and grasped the air, his fingers bunched into a claw shape, as if he held a bundle of cords, "you will serve me." He pulled his fist slowly upward, and the ground trembled. He saw the pulse brighten, a red aura radiated underground beneath the position of his hand, as if it bled.

He stretched out his other arm before him slightly to the left, so that his arms formed a V. That gloved hand also grasped something intangible that corresponded with the energy beneath. The power shocked from within, as it magically entered through his hands into his body like liquid fire.

Slowly, never losing focus, he raised his eyes heavenward as his boots rose from the stone ground. He gritted his teeth at the upward struggle. "More," he gasped, sweating.

While he still held the invisible bunches of power he savagely grasped at more knots of pink that glowed beneath strategic points under the labyrinth. The sheer mass of that power for a moment pulled him back. He quickly corrected the shift in weight and clawed with his other hand at more.

Sweat poured down his face and passed the bunched muscles of his neck.

It was painful. He had never channeled this much magic, the energy was so powerful it burned. The whites of his eyes were suffused with red energy and his mouth, clenched a second ago, opened to gasp painfully one name.

"Sarah…"

--

Sir Didymus looked up from his galloping steed and saw that the king had alighted at the top of the tallest tower. He hurried the dragon, wondering at the same instant how he was to get up the tower in time.

A small wooden door at the towers base came into view. In a smooth motion, Sir Didymus swung himself off, grasped, and then pulled at the heavy metal handle. It did not budge.

"Locked," he hissed. He took a step back and slammed his little shoulder at the door, and just when he was going to go at it again, the door swung inward and Hoggle grabbed his arm.

"Oh, get in already!" Hoggle closed the door and they were enveloped in darkness.

"How is it possible you made it here before me?" Sir Didymus asked as he caught his breath.

Hoggle looked through his ring of keys and smiled as he held one up from the many, "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." With that he inserted the key into the door on the inside of the tower and turned; a triumphant click! With a smug look, Hoggle pushed at the door and was hit in the face by a flapping chicken!

"Arrr! Me chickens! Git out, git out! Youz letting me chickens loose!" cried an angry cook.

Hoggle immediately shut the door to the kitchen and fumbled through his keys, embarrassed. "Humph, well I can't be right all the time." For the second time that week Sir Didymus wiped feathers off his hat.

"Hurry Sir Hoggle," the anxious fox whispered.

Hoggle made an, "ahah!" sound and inserted a different key into the lock.

It clicked.

When they opened the door and stepped out they felt bright sunlight hurt their eyes and felt a strong wind whip their clothes. The brave knight's senses were superior to the dwarf's and it enabled him to see that his king burned a fierce purple and red hue

"The king is on fire!" he shouted, barking.

Hoggle who did not have his friend's canine senses did not understand at first, he saw the goblin king suspended in the air as if he struggled to hold something. He did not see any fire.

Suddenly, with wide eyes, he understood.

Sir Didymus barked and ran to and fro, trying to get his king to come back down that he may help douse the flames.

"Fool!" cried Hoggle, as he grabbed Sir Didymus by the shoulders and pulled him back, "Don't stop him now! He has the very veins of the labyrinth in his hands! See how he's flying up, pulling harder? Any distraction could have something slip and he'll be ripped apart!"

Sir Didymus was frantic. "What – what is he doing?"

Hoggle looked up with a solemn expression; his wrinkled brows knitting together as hot moisture blurred his vision. "He's turning back time for her."

"No - your majesty! Think of what you're doing!" the knight barked.

Suddenly there was a loud groan that made the tower shake. Hoggle was knocked off his feet again and Sir Didymus fought to stay upright.

"What on earth is that sound?" screamed Hoggle.

Both friends lunged at and held onto the tower edge, they peered over its dizzying depth and looked on with stricken eyes at the outer wall of the labyrinth. Great oaks were pulled and uplifted, hovering over the red dirt as if ready to fly, walls crumbled, and great portions of land sunk in to fill the land distortions.

"The maze…" whispered Sir Didymus, shocked and amazed, "the maze is breaking."

Hoggle stared up into the blinding sky at Jareth. Hot tears coursed down his wrinkled cheeks but he could not curse the king as he thought he would. To defy everyone and everything for Sarah…it made him angry, but strangely enough, he admired the Goblin King at that moment.

"Save her," he softly encouraged.

Sir Didymus, however, looked on with a heavy heart. For some reason the words came out though at the time it made no sense to him. "Sire, but what of the children?"

Brightness, burst forth where the king was.

Both dwarf and fox yelped.

It was blinding, a second where nothing existed but white light.

When it ended, Sir Didymus and Hoggle lowered their arms from their eyes and saw that the king had vanished.

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a/n: Ow, my head hurts. This had to be the most confusing part. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who sent me reviews and bog threats ;)

I will endeavor to write the story more clearly from this point. I think if I rewrite this chapter my head will pop. Not pretty. So what you see is what you get. Lots love.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Oh God, I'm so nervous to release this chapter, (wrings hands, takes a deep breath) – OK, here we go!

_Please, please like it._

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Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Six:

Surprisingly, there was no pain. He thought he had been shot down by lightning after channeling energy from the labyrinth.

Groggy and disoriented, The Goblin King leans one hand onto the stone wall to help steady him. The soft crackle of static charge was slowly starting to dissipate. Into the darkness he peers and then realizes he is on a stairwell.

Trails and wisps of purple pink smoke drift off his white clothes.

_White?_

He looks down and sees that his outfit has changed. No midnight colored cape flutters behind his footsteps but a downy white mantle, hinged with a feathery material. He lifts his gloves and sees that they too are white.

Suddenly he looks upward, toward the entrance of the underground cave. A soft light highlights it opening.

Beyond that doorway he knew there were stars, floating pieces of his kingdom, and an unfulfilled contract between king and girl.

Beyond that doorway…

_Sarah._

He knew if he had gone back and stopped the car wreck she would still die. Maybe not then but sooner than he wished. She was mortal.

If he could persuade her now, keep her here in the labyrinth from this point on, she would never grow old, never be in pain…in essence, she would live forever.

It is such a crucial moment. If she turns him down again, he would not be able to repeat this process, it would either kill him or the labyrinth. As such he had already done too much damage.

"But it will be worth it, if she lives," he breaths onto the cold stone wall. He momentarily rests his forehead against its cool rough surface. His heartbeat is loud and fast in his ears.

_What if she does not want to live forever? _His mind suddenly asks.

A white gloved hand punches the wall as a picture of her frail body being lifted from the car blooms in his mind. Blood streaking down her chin. The strange box next to her hospital bed with its ominous straight line…

His chest heaves at the involuntary image of her memory of him, holding a crystal out to her, fading into that unending darkness.

He could not bear her leaving.

"I will make her want me," he hears a harsh voice reply, rough with fatigue and anger.

With grim determination he ascends the stone steps, out into that dusty red rimmed light, and pauses.

It was just like his dreams.

Her back was to him. Her ebony black hair was long, covering most of the back of her white vest. Her hair slightly sways as she turns to him. The king feels himself exhale, a dull ache residing in his chest.

Sarah, alive and young, is full of angry indignation and yet a provoking determination.

He walks to her unbelieving, with his hands slightly outstretched, as if wanting to hold her but afraid she will fade away.

She cringes from him, suspicious, and steps back.

"Don't," he whispers, "please…" The question in his voice confuses her. She is shocked even more as the Goblin King uncharacteristically pulls her to him and holds her.

She looks up into his face startled. She had never seen him like this, so lost, in such pain, and yet he looks so relieved. Her mind races with accusations, and logically rationalizes that it is a last ditch effort to delay her, to keep her brother away.

But then she looks into his eyes.

His sigh wrenches her heart.

She has never been this close to him before, in no way looked beyond his role as evil Goblin King. She has never even noticed that his eyes are two different colors.

_How can he look at me like that?_ She wonders, confused and yet lulled by his embrace. _It's like… like…_ She rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes, and for a moment feel as if they are dancing.

_Falling…falling in love._

He reluctantly pulls away from her. He smiles down at her. It is not the smile she saw when he entered Toby's room through the balcony. It did not promise mischief or pain. Goosebumps trail her arms and she blushes as she feels his hand, suddenly gloveless, trace a side of her cheek.

"Sarah…" he whispers like a gentle caress.

She pushes herself away roughly; the back of her hand swiping away what she felt was a mark, a hot brand left by a conniving king.

"G-Give me the child!" she stammers, unsure of herself, but in spite of it all determined to retrieve her brother.

He looks hurt; his face becomes pale in the soft moonlight. He frantically tries to grab her hand but she pulls away, afraid.

She does not know why she is crying.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered" she says too quickly, shaking.

He grasps her hand and he gasps her name, her eyes widen, terrified.

"Time is short my love." He pulls out a crystal but now he is down on one knee, holding onto her with a desperate look in his eyes.

"W-what did you say?" she asks, unable to comprehend all the strange happenings at this moment. What was going on? Just a few minutes ago he was pointing to her with dangerous words and spiteful looks in the Escher room. What was it he said?

_I move the stars for no one._

He opens his mouth and as if he read her mind, repeats the rest of the song, but to him there is new meaning to the words.

"Everything I've done I have done it all for you."

The orb is held not temptingly but in a frantic manner. His voice is soft, painful, affectionate…

"Sarah," he whispers, "I love you."

Sarah crushes her sight with the heels of her two hands and cries, willing herself to not look anymore. Her body is shaking.

What about her brother? What about herself? Her family? What about him, this king who was nothing more than am arrogant tyrant a moment ago, but is now looking at her like she was beautiful, precious…

Did he know? Did he know that her dreams involved someone loving her like that, with that same look in his eyes?

Shielding her eyes she does not notice the Goblin King. He has stopped looking at her and is now absorbed by what he sees in the crystal.

--

Time seems to stand still. The Goblin King knows she is confused and in pain but he can not help her. His attention is riveted to the crystal.

_How?_ He wonders as the crystal shows flashes of imagery. Children laughing in the park.

With incredulity he realizes they are Sarah's children. Snippets of her older self being held by her husband. A child being cradled in the night comforted by her, a mother.

The orb flashed one last image before fading into a shiny blackness. Her smile. The smile she never wore in his presence.

It was his most favorite picture of her, being hugged from behind by her daughter, as she wore the large blue dress and straw hat. She was pregnant.

Sir Didymus's voice whispers in his distraught mind, "But sire, what of the children?"

The goblin king's heart stops. If he stops her from returning to her world, she would never marry. Never have a family. What would happen? Would they just…fade away?

A dim part of him could still hear Sarah before him, crying.

_What am I doing?_

He quickly stands up and backs away, the crystal tumbling from his fingers and shattering on the floor.

Sarah looks up, startled by the sound of glass breaking and sees that he is dazed.

"Jareth?" she questions. His eyes widen at her use of his name.

Suddenly, there is a shift in him; she could not describe it any other way, something about him changed…hardened. He pulls the cloak around him regally.

"Really Sarah, you are more naïve than I thought falling for that little bit."

Sarah blinks, taken aback by the king's sudden change in demeanor. Even his voice was now harsh and if anything, more cruel than she ever heard it before.

"W-what?" she asks stupidly.

He steels his gaze at her, ruthless, walking fiercely around her with his hands behind his back.

"Did you really think I had fallen in love with you?" He stops by her side and makes a disapproving sound. "My dear, you are not the only one interested in the arts of acting…" He folds his arms in front of his chest and leans against one of the walls, trying to look as disinterested as he could.

How he hated this. He could feel her shock and pain coming off in waves, and it was being caused by him.

_Sarah…_he thought sadly, _I want you to be happy. Only now I realize…_

"I was wrong," he says, his words meaning two different things to either person. Sarah saw this admission as a criticism of the strength of her will. She did not know how ashamed he felt at that moment.

"I was only trying to distract you," he says haughtily, "To win my little gam-"

A loud slap interrupted his sentence and echoed in the misty room.

The strike came fast but he was expecting it. A red handprint graced his cheek, as he kept his gaze averted from her. She was crying. He could feel it from the air in the room, hear it from her breathing. He did not have to look at her to see the pain he caused.

"Damn you!" she cried, just as the clock started to chime. Both knew that at the thirteenth peal everything would end one victor and one loser. Sarah was determined to be the victor in this game.

She scowled at the king who continued to look away from her. They both knew what she had to do. She advanced on him as she spoke.

"I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city…to take back the child you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great!"

This time though she was sure of herself. There was no bumbling of the last lines. He was shocked when she angrily grabbed his pendant and pulled him to her so that they were face to face. She kissed him fiercely, and then shoved him back.

"You have no power over me."

The clock struck the thirteenth hour. The goblin King closed his eyes and sighed as he felt the familiar stirrings of magic. He sadly looked at Sarah one last time and mouthed the word, "goodbye." He vanished before he could see her confusion.

Suddenly there was the rush of wind all around him, hurting his ears; stars hurtled past him so fast that they were streaks of white light. He was falling back, back through time.

His body slammed into the hard sun baked dirt outside his castle wall. It was at the very least, unexpected. Aching, he turned so that he was now lying on his back. He brought a gloved hand up to see what color it was.

_Black._

He brought his fingertips to his lips, and touched the blazing memory of her heated kiss.

_It was all for nothing. _

Into the sun he stared, not caring if he burned. Not caring if he lived or died at that moment.

Two figures in the distance on top of a high tower watch him.

"He failed," croaked Hoggle. Tears fall down as he cradles his face with one of his rough work worn hands. "Sarah is dead."

Sir Didymus, takes off his cap in tribute to his lady, and puts a comforting paw on Hoggle's shaking shoulder.

"He did not win, Sir Hoggle…But our king did not fail," the knight says solemnly.

Everything was right in the world to Sir Didymus. He smiled, knowing that he served a king he could count to make the right decisions. He looked over the edge and saw his grieving king; a king he knew, he would give his life for in service.

"Come Sir Hoggle," he asks gently, "his majesty is in need of us."

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A/N: Um…just so you know there will be one final chapter coming soon. But it will have to wait, since my family is visiting. Please don't send me to the bog (pretty please). If you see any mistakes notify me about them (spelling, grammar, etc), thanks everyone.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I appreciate everyone who has read and reviewed this story – it means a lot to me that people actually read something I wrote, albeit it being shaky. But that's the way it goes I guess, the more you write the better you get – and I have a lot of writing to do :)

Thank you.

P.S. – sorry, this chapter is kinda long.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or the characters in it, nor do I make any profit from this story in anyway.

Title: In Dreams, I Await Your Hand

Chapter Seven:

Jareth, King of the Goblins and ruler of the labyrinth, stared up into blazing sunlight from the grounds outside the castle wall. He laid there as humid air swept bits of shiny dirt into his hair and caused a few strands to lash his face. His whole body ached from the hurried impact of time travel and for a few peaceful moments he allowed his mind to wander in confusion.

What was he doing here?

Something important happened…something he had to remember…

A sound echoed in his mind, feather soft and excruciatingly sad. Strangely enough, it was also oddly reassuring…it sounded like someone crying.

An image gradually took shape. Before a backdrop of red hued light, glitter dusted rock formations and upon a blanket of mist, a young woman with long black hair quietly sobbed… as if her world had been turned upside down.

The king's eyes slightly widened in wary realization and then closed as if the harsh light pained him. What he wouldn't give to approach that slight jean clad form now. Her soft face cupped, protected by his strong hands, all her sadness wiped away by the pads of his thumbs.

Such a pity he could never be her hero.

_How ironic,_ he mused, _that the only way to protect Sarah is to stay completely out of her life._

His eyes were raw orbs of pain now blazing. He knew that Sarah was now not only absent from his world but absent from hers as well.

_Ah, Sarah…my light. Am I forever banished into darkness?_

He could not bear to move, to break the cycle of pain which somehow seemed like a fitting tribute to his now departed… He paused.

Wondering in what way Sarah was linked to him.

_What was she to me? _He wondered.

_Friend?_

_Enemy?_

_Combatant?_

_A…crush?_

Evermore he knew it was beyond title or mere words, what she meant to him. He could not fathom it but put simply his life was colorless and dull before her. When she came into his life, her victory over him and her departure from his domain left an emptiness in his soul that was both acute and severe. Her essence was comforting to him, and without her he was plagued by nightmares and the burning question: "what if she had stayed?"

Now he knew. He had done the unthinkable and traveled not minutes, hours or even days, but traversed years. His chest tightened at the memory.

In his mind he could see two versions of himself, one that would ruthlessly kill in order to achieve his deepest wish. The other, so broken and devoted, that it would submit to the deep desires of the one he loved. A king bowed low before a human girl.

It did not escape him that he nearly killed the family of his precious Sarah. He was careless and it nearly murdered a part of Sarah he would now die to protect. Then he wondered if it was wholly carelessness on his part.

"Sarah," he said feverishly, not realizing or caring that he spoke aloud, "I ask for so little…"

But…was her happiness such a trifle?

_Love me…fear me…_ his memory taunted him. He felt a battle he was never able to successfully conquer wage war on his heart.

_You could have had everything!_ That dark part of him screamed.

_But the children? They are hers_… He countered.

_By every right they should have been yours! _

His gloves clenched fistfuls of dirt and twisted at his side. _If she had stayed, children of your own would have graced those empty halls! _

That hard, merciless part of him fell on its knees in both disgust and shocked distress. _We could have had everything…we could have won!_

The moment hung in the air, accompanied by the sound of brown reeds waving in the wind. His eyes turned to the sound and he watched, lazily hypnotized by its rhythmic flourish. Beside those bending reeds a giant oak rested in defeat, its roots ripped from the ground from earlier that day. Even now some of its leaves were wilting in the warmth of the noon day. It looked oddly noble.

Jareth's lip turned at the corner, forming a self criticizing half smile.

_Didn't you realize? _He asked himself. _The villain never wins._

_But, _the evil, malicious Jareth argued, and then stubbornly whimpered, _what of my wants?_

He felt the wind sweep over him and blanket him with tepid air. He closed his eyes and imagined he could feel the world turn.

Mismatched eyes opened languidly as he slowly brought his hands up to tug off his black leather gloves. He then laid his arms out, his hands pointing downward, forming a human cross in the dirt.

"What I want…" over dry lips he whispered, "is to finally be free."

The dark part of him dissolved in his consciousness, never to speak again. Good. It would make his next task easier. The words came to his mind easily and he imagined, laying there on the hard ground feeling the beat and life force of the labyrinth beneath him, that he could stop the world from turning.

_As the world falls down…_

Ancient words of profound solemnity whispered past his lips. The air stilled around him, leaving the reeds motionless and the labyrinth became eerily silent as if it held its breath. The Goblin king stared up into that bright yellow sky as if to make out behind clouds the hint of an earthly presence. The words he sang sounded sad but beautiful, like silk sliding between fingers, like silver moonlight, like fallen tears…it reminded him of…of…

_Sarah._

Slowly his life force trickled out of his body, down past his naked hands into the heart of the labyrinth. The song he had uttered was a song only bestowed upon powerful monarchs. It was a last resort measure, meant to protect kings from the shame of being used for ransom or to suffer the ignominy of torture. It was a song of death.

He struggled to maintain that integrity, that elusive transcending thought, as his heart slowed, the frequency of its rhythm lessening. His eyes rolled up into his head, and the tightness of his jaw relaxed.

_Soon Sarah… I will see you._

xxxxx

When the magic seized him it was entirely unexpected and definitely unwelcome. "No," he gasped, wrenched from darkness into light so fiercely he saw stars border his vision.

_No – this isn't right. The spell has been broken. I-I'm being summoned!_

His body was pulled, forced to not give up, so that though he staggered, his regal form stood upright. His heart thundered, speeding to make up for its earlier decline. The rush of blood and oxygen made him dizzy and nauseous.

He fought the pull. In the labyrinth he had no choice but to obey a summons, it was his essential role to take whoever was wished away. He grappled the magic, swaying drunkenly as if he were fighting gravity, as he cast himself to hold fast to the stone wall.

"You can not take this away from me! How dare you! It's – it's" -

_It's not fair._

Red finger prints adorned the stones he held fast to. His muscles strained under the pressure and it felt like his skin was being ripped off. He gritted his teeth, and then threw his head back roaring in pain and indignity.

His cape flared and whipped behind him, drawn in the direction of the summons. He looked forward and could see the corner of the stone wall blur, stretching ahead as he was pulled in the opposite direction. Even if he held on with all his might he would be ripped from this dimension and unceremoniously dropped into the next.

Drained from his near death experience, angered to have lost his escape, but unable to deny the magic, he turned, and leapt forward like a panther about to kill – and vanished.

xxxxx

When he opened his eyes his legs were shaking and his chest shuddered with each labored breath. A drop of crimson fell from his bruised fingers and he knew his posture was anything but imposing. It was not the ideal first impression he had wanted to present before the person he now stood before.

"You're him aren't you? You're the Goblin King?"

The woman before him looked so much like Sarah that for one confused second he had thought he somehow stepped back into the past. But he realized the woman was not Sarah. Her hair was dark brown with a lighter shade of highlights. Her eyes were not green but dark, like molasses. She wore a grey long sleeved vest, the bottom of which was tucked into jeans. He knew her, this woman.

"Sarah's little girl."

The woman gave a small smile and nodded. "Not quite so little anymore though." Then in a quiet voice she added, "She named me Ruth."

It slowly dawned on him that she was waiting for an answer.

"I am he. The one you have summoned," he replied simply.

Ruth still could not believe that he was there, actually standing before her. He wasn't as threatening as her mother had made him out to be when she was a little girl. This man, if he was a man, she didn't know exactly what he was, looked as if he had crawled through hell and back. He looked exhausted, about to collapse even.

She was also slightly confused and a little in awe by his unorthodox clothing. Her eyes quickly roamed over his high collared black cape, the leather plated vest, and she slightly blushed with how scandalously tight his black leather pants were. He was a strange mixture to contemplate. He was handsome, no one could deny that, but he looked worn out, unhealthy even, and yet he stood as if to deny he was anything but powerful and in control. She knew it would be a mistake to offer him assistance – she was in the presence of a king.

While Ruth had been analyzing him he took the time to analyze the space he was called to. His eyes roamed over the room, mystified by its stark whiteness and antiseptic aroma. He spied the form beside him in a hospital bed, cocooned in bleached sheets.

He turned to her, unbelieving, bending down on one knee, his eyes wide, moisture threatening to blur his vision of the one he most wanted to see.

"Sarah," his voice cracked and he tenderly grasped her hand, noting the faint pulse beneath the cool wrinkled skin.

He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Sarah's daughter, who had studiously watched his reaction.

"H-how?" he asked.

"You knew?" she asked and cast a scrupulous glance at him.

The Goblin King bowed his head, his blond hair shadowing his face and words.

"I felt a faint connection to her during the accident. Her memories were laid open to me a brief flash then gone. I felt her leave."

He looked up at the daughter of Sarah just as a treacherous tear fell from its dark lashed perch, betraying his emotions. For the moment he forgave its betrayal. There were more important needs.

"Many of those memories were of you."

A look of pain flashed through Ruth's eyes as she brought a shaking hand to cover her mouth. She steadied herself and Jareth saw that strength and determination was not held by Sarah alone.

"Save her," she hiccupped, tears falling rapidly down her pale cheeks. She took a deep breath and then in a steadier voice answered the question in the Goblin king's fixed gaze.

"A little while ago her heart stopped. She did die. Four minutes of total flat line. We cried, believing she was gone from us. Then – miraculously – her heart started to beat again." Ruth walked to him and he was surprised that she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"She suddenly opened her eyes and tried to speak. I went to her immediately. I had to bend low with my ear near her mouth just to make out what she was saying. Then she fell asleep. The doctors say she is in a coma and it is unlikely she will ever wake up."

She fixed a steady gaze on him as he waited for her to continue. His hand never let go of her mother's hand she noted.

"She said, 'Jareth needs me. I must see him.'"

Ruth suddenly stepped away and folded her arms, it made her look vulnerable. He knew that this brave woman, this daughter of Sarah, was afraid and lonely. He could empathize but still he stayed close to Sarah, reluctant to ever leave her side.

"I felt stupid but I waited until the others left the room, and then I called you. You were supposed to be only a bedtime story. But it was so important to her," at this her gaze fell of the face of her mother.

She realized she had felt stupid, alone in the room with her mother unconscious, as she "wished the Goblin King would take Sarah away." It was stupid and she smugly chided herself when for the first few minutes he didn't show. "See?" she told herself, "He isn't real."

Then the lights blinked off and on, wind swept her hair into her eyes though both the window and door were closed at the time. There was the sound of static leaping around the room and suddenly he was there, his eyes blazing, his breathing harsh and ragged, looking as if he came fresh from a kill or he was about to kill someone. She had nearly fainted.

But now, he was calm. She had seen into the heart of this man…this king. The way he held her mother's hand, gently smoothed her hair, and looked at his Sarah with such warmth and emotion.

_I will do this for you mother. I can see that he loves you. You can live on, not just a memory in my heart, but actually live. He will save you._

Memories of Sarah reading to her and her little brother when they were children wrapped in a colorful afghan flared like a bright flame and suffused her with warm nostalgia. Her mother gave her everything, sunrises, rainbow dotted pajamas, hugs and the belief in goodness and magic.

She wrapped her arms around herself tighter; she could feel it, the moment when her mother would leave her forever. It was both comforting and scary as hell.

_Mother…I love you._

She watched the king as he stood, garnering his strength and bent over the bed's metal rail. He gently lifted Sarah's light form and sadly smiled at Ruth.

"She can never return, you understand?"

More tears. "I know."

The Goblin King bowed his head to Ruth and lifted grateful eyes as he mouthed, "thank you." For a moment she was speechless as she realized from all the stories her mother told that this was a rare honor. She bowed her head in return and when she looked up both her mother and the infamous Goblin king were nowhere to be seen.

xxxxx

Jareth appeared in his bed chambers, cradling the elderly form of Sarah, still wrapped in the hospital sheets. It was difficult holding her when he felt so weak and depleted. But there was no way in hell, after everything they had both gone through, would he ever let fall the woman he loved. He gently placed her on his bed and knelt beside her.

He was still so amazed to see her, barely sinking into the thick rich, maroon colored quilt. Alive. His Sarah was alive. He gently undid the elastic band around her hair and let her pepper gray locks flow on the pillow. He didn't know what she would say to him, knowing that he had interfered. He didn't know how she would respond when he will tell her that she can not return to the aboveground or ever see her family again.

Then he remembered her daughter's tears slowly coursing down her face.

"_Save her."_

He stretched out his gloveless hand over Sarah's chest and with his other hand, slid it under her head cradling the back of her neck.

He felt so tired. He could have lain on the hard stone floor and slept soundly, but first things first. He concentrated pulling from the center of himself, what was left of his power. He felt it painfully beat out of him, a light pink and yellow glow out of his hand and into the body of Sarah.

Perspiration dotted both his and her brow. He knew that on some level, though unconscious, she could feel the reconstruction of her body parts that were damaged by the accident. Bones were knitted in seconds, tissue interlaced and made smooth, blood flow invigorated. It was hard on them both.

Then the golden pink tinged glow ebbed from them both and he slumped to her side, his head mere inches from hers. He groggily saw her eyes blink open, confusion warring in her beautiful green orbs as they settled on his face.

_Beautiful,_ he thought to himself quietly.

_Like fresh leaves in spring._ "Jareth?"

Sarah sat up clutching the sheets to her chest, worry etched on her features as she saw the Goblin King before her looking pale and ill. She had always remembered him as powerful, arrogant, and imposing. She reached her hand to him, about to get up and look for help.

He gently gripped her hand and brought it to his cheek, proud to feel her pulse beating strongly. "I'm fine. Just…let me rest a bit." Sarah nodded, not wanting to upset him when he obviously was not well. She slightly blushed, as she realized the hand that held hers was without gloves. It seemed oddly…intimate. She marveled at his long, beautiful, and sadly bruised fingers.

He sighed and rested his head on his right forearm and within seconds was fast asleep.

Jareth felt like he was in some kind of mental fog as he battled unconsciousness. He awoke to find himself in his bed, wearing fresh linen clothes. Sarah was away from him looking out the rounded window. She was wearing the same clothes she wore when she went into the hospital only now they seemed clean and pressed. Her hair was down and the warm air roused and lifted her long strands. He felt something stir in his soul. Though she was older he could still see his Sarah. Her green eyes focused, her stance strong, as she surveyed the land with a love equal to any labyrinth inhabitant.

She must have heard him sit up because she turned to him and smiled. She gracefully walked to him and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, not sure if it was appropriate to hold his hand. She seemed a little…shy.

"How long have I slept?" he asked.

"Two days."

He placed his hand over hers and she looked at him. Her face holding an expression he could not exactly read. She seemed anxious, happy, afraid, and maybe a little sad.

"Sir Didymus and Hoggle told me what you did."

His grip tightened but she ignored it. Trust Sarah to jump into the heart of things.

She continued, "For the longest time I wondered over our parting." Her eyes fell onto his pendant, the one so many years ago she had forcefully grabbed to pull him to her. Her eyes lifted to his lips, to that seductive cruel mouth. Then her gaze drifted to the side of his cheek. Her brows furrowed. "It was wrong of me to have hit you. I – I owe you everything."

Her king turned his face away from her, avoiding her gaze. "You owe me nothing. You do not know…what I nearly…how close I came to erasing…" He found it hard to breathe. Did he dare tell her everything? Would she still look at him if she knew what had nearly transpired that night so many years ago for her but mere days for him? He let go of her hand – he could deny her nothing.

"For many years I have watched over you. I have seen your world through a cacophony of smiles, tears, fights, and daily happenings. I watched your children grow up. I have seen…you happy. It was the most…beautiful…" He had meant her smile but the words seemed appropriate for everything he saw in her life. Her world, her home encompassed beauty to him. Because she was there. His Sarah.

"All that would have been undone Sarah. I nearly…killed your children." In the ensuing silence, he quietly got up from the bed and made for the door. He imagined her loathing him and thought it best that she have the room to herself, while he retreated fearing that though she was alive he had lost her, again. He was shocked when he felt her hand tentatively touch his shoulder.

"Don't leave me."

"Sarah…"

"I know what you did for me, and what it cost you. My children are alive and well and I am alive because of you. Hear an old woman out – in my life I loved two men. One of them I thought did not know the meaning of love, only the challenge of cat and mouse games. The other I lost because fate can be cruel. I will always love my Eric, and I will never forget him. But don't let me lose you, not when I finally understand."

She looked at her hand on his shoulder, noting the wrinkles and dull color and suddenly felt self-conscious. She was after all an old woman. Why would someone like him want anything to do with her when she looked like this?

He pulled her to him, both hearts wildly beating as he closed his arms around her. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his chest; she could smell the scent of freshly laundered linens and behind it an exotic blend of magic, spice, and power.

He pulled away and knelt on one knee. A crystal suddenly in his hand, balanced on his fingertips, offered to her.

"Take it," he smiled.

She took the orb from him and held it carefully with both hands.

"What is it?" she smiled back. It was kind of fun teasing each other just like they used to when she was younger.

"It's a gift. I have missed the opportunity to give you a birthday present."

She laughed. "I think I should have like 40 of these then."

He smiled but the look he gave was a little more serious. "Make a wish."

She closed her eyes and the crystal popped like a soap bubble. A breeze swirled around her whipping her hair around. Her features changed and her hair magically darkened from root to tip. Her wrinkles smoothed into soft lively skin, and her posture became taller, straighter. The air stopped swirling around her and before Jareth stood Sarah as she was perhaps when she was 20 years old.

She looked down to him and saw his appreciative glance. "You did not have to do that just for me."

She smiled, "I wanted to – for us. Consider it an early wedding gift."

A startled yelp escaped her now rosy lush lips as he grabbed her by the waist and twirled her around. She was getting dizzy but she could hear his laughter ringing across the room. She could afford a little dizziness.

He stopped and her feet were back on the ground as he dipped down to press his mouth to the nape of her throat. "I love you," he whispered across her skin. She shivered and leaned in to him, seeking to show him rather than say how she felt with a sensual kiss.

The dizziness was back with a vengeance and she knew, quite happily, it would never go away.

xxxxx

A/N: To everyone out there who loves bittersweet, tragic endings, in case you were wondering, no I did not cop out under pressure and suddenly give a happy ending. When I first envisioned this story, this was the ending I initially came up with. I had a lot of fun writing this and I am surprised I have actually completed a fanfiction (I tend to have a short attention span). I appreciate everyone who has read this story and even more so, the wonderful people who took the time to write a review (THANK YOU!).

orientalbunny (Yay! I'm done! Woohoo!)


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